


I do sin, but I am not the devil

by ohmcgee



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Making Out, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, happy fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3712948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had taken Jason forever to get Bruce to even touch him at all and now that he’s finally cracked that thick, outer shell of denial and guilt and general Bruce Wayne stubbornness it’s like he can’t <i>stop.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I do sin, but I am not the devil

It had taken Jason forever to get Bruce to even touch him at all and now that he’s finally cracked that thick, outer shell of denial and guilt and general Bruce Wayne stubbornness it’s like he can’t _stop._

They’re in Bruce’s bed and Bruce is propped up on a bunch of fancy pillows that usually just get tossed on the floor and Jason’s in his lap, touching the scruff on Bruce’s face while Bruce kisses him. His favorite t-shirt is on the floor next to Bruce’s and they’re both wearing thin cotton pants, cool and comfortable for sleeping in during the summer. 

Jason’s never stopped being fascinated with how huge Bruce’s hands are and they feel even better running up the planes of his back as Bruce’s tongue curls around his, as he licks into his mouth and kisses him sweetly, sliding his hand all the way up Jason’s back and into his hair, carding his fingers through the loose curls at the nape of his neck, then trailing his thumb down the knobs of his spine as Jason makes soft noises against his mouth. 

Jason’s been hard almost since the moment Bruce put his hands on him, has been shifting and rolling his hips slow and lazy against him as they kiss and Bruce is hard too, Jason can feel him between the thin layers of cotton, thick and hot, knows Bruce can feel him too. But he goes slow, happy just to have this, Bruce’s mouth on his, skin against skin, the sweet, rough glide of friction when he rolls his hips against him. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been doing this, just lazily making out in Bruce’s bed and exploring each other like they’ve never seen each other’s bodies, like Jason isn’t hyper-aware of every swell of muscle, every jagged, silver-white scar, every blemish on Bruce’s body. It’s been hours maybe, possibly just minutes, he isn’t sure, because Bruce’s hands on him has always made him feel like time stands still, that nothing else matters. 

It’s been so long though, that Jason can feel the heat in his belly steadily growing, can feel his cock throbbing, creating a wet spot on the front of his pants, knows it wouldn’t take anything to just grab onto Bruce’s arms and rut against him quick and hard to relieve himself, but he won’t do anything to spook him, won’t dare risk Bruce stopping with his mouth and his hands, kissing Jason like it’s his religion. 

He can’t stop though, can’t help the slow, steady roll of his hips, not with Bruce’s huge, calloused hands dropping down to frame him on each side, his thick fingers fanned out over each of Jason’s ribs, not when Bruce’s teeth just barely slide over his bottom lip and he chases it with his tongue. He won’t spook Bruce away but he doesn’t have the will to stop either. He thinks he might eventually go completely insane with the way his cock drags across Bruce’s, the pressure in his gut building so slow, so fucking slow his head feels fuzzy, his vision going blurry. 

Bruce drops his hands down to curl around his hips, fingers just barely slipping beneath the loose waistband of his pants, and it’s happening so fast Jason can only pull back and let out a sharp gasp into Bruce’s neck, his hips stuttering, blunt nails biting into Bruce’s shoulders as his orgasm shudders out of him, wave after wave, Bruce holding him through it with a hand flat across the small part of his back. 

Jason blushes when Bruce pulls him back and makes him look at him. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers and claims Jason’s mouth again. He sucks Jason’s tongue into his mouth, which is cold from panting into Bruce’s shoulder, then he kisses him. It’s different than before, less like learning the contours of Jason’s mouth, soft and slow, and more like he’s starving and Jason’s mouth is the only thing he’s been craving. He nips at his lips, no longer careful with his teeth, and it makes Jason whimper in his throat, his hips instinctively grinding down on Bruce’s. His dick is still so sensitive, still half-hard, but it still feels good.

Bruce kisses him hard, gets one hand in Jason’s hair, the other one still resting on his hip, kisses him rough, the way Jason always imagined he would kiss, until Jason feels like his mouth is bruised and raw, until he has to literally press his hand against Bruce’s chest and break them apart himself so he can breathe. But Bruce doesn’t stop, just moves his mouth to the skin under Jason’s jaw, peppers kisses down the column of his throat and along his collarbone. Jason rocks against him when Bruce’s hands slide all the way down his back and tentatively cup his ass. Jason breathes out a _yes_ and Bruce squeezes, dragging him forward. He licks the salt from Jason’s skin, slides one hand up Jason’s chest and Jason hisses out a gasp when one of Bruce’s calloused fingers passes over one of his nipples, and just like that Jason’s fully hard again, grinds down hard against Bruce to show him. His clothes are sticky where he came in them just a few minutes ago and it’s filthy, he feels dirty, and he’s so turned on he feels like he could _cry_. 

Then Bruce gets his mouth on his shoulder and starts sucking the skin into his mouth. He’s careful to do it where Jason’s shirt will cover, where no one will be able to see the evidence of what they do behind locked doors, but Jason will know. He’ll look at it in the bathroom at school, press his fingers into it when he’s supposed to be taking an Algebra test, and he’ll remember this, how Bruce couldn’t help but to leave his mark on him.

He forgets about taking it slow and starts to rock against Bruce with purpose this time, hand on the back of Bruce’s head while he sucks a matching bruise on his other shoulder. He rolls his hips and he grinds his cock against Bruce’s, he squeezes Bruce’s arm and pants into his neck. His breathing is frantic and he’s so, _so_ hard, but it’s not enough this time. Bruce’s teeth scrape across his throat and he’s shaking with how bad he needs it, making little whimpers and broken moans that almost sound like sobs in the back of his throat, trying so _hard,_ but --

 

“Shh,” Bruce shushes him and slips his hand between them, presses the palm of his hand against Jason through his pants. “Come on, it’s okay.”

Jason’s hips thrust forward and Bruce’s hand squeezes around him and Jason throws his head back as he grinds against Bruce’s hand, so close, _so_ close --

Then Bruce growls and his teeth find Jason’s neck, high, somewhere right below his ear and Jason comes so hard little white lights dance behind his eyes, knowing he made Bruce lose enough control to mark him like that where anyone will be able to see. 

Bruce grabs his face with both of his hands and kisses Jason through it as he rocks against him, riding out every last aftershock of his orgasm, Bruce swallowing every little whimper Jason gives him, then he spills Jason out of his lap and onto his back. 

He peels Jason’s sticky pants and underwear off of him and Jason feels his face go hot when Bruce just kneels there and looks down at him, at the mess he’s made of himself.

Jason looks up at him, still feeling boneless, every nerve ending in his body still electrified, and licks his lips. “I’m all dirty, Bruce,” he says and shivers when Bruce’s eyes flash with something hot and dangerous.

“I see that,” Bruce says and leans down, kissing his way down Jason’s chest, dipping his tongue into his navel, then he starts to lick him clean.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jason gasps out when Bruce’s tongue laps out at him, at his cock, at the soft skin where he’d gotten himself sticky from coming in his pants twice for him. “I can’t,” Jason pants, fisting the sheets beneath them in his fingers, his back arching off the mattress. “Bruce, _christ_ , I can’t --”

But Bruce isn’t listening or doesn’t care or both because then he takes Jason in his mouth and Jason has to shove his his whole fist into his mouth so the whole _world_ doesn’t hear him. He’s so over-sensitive that every flick of Bruce’s tongue makes him thrash on the bed, the muscles in his thighs quivering, and even though he should be completely spent, even if he thinks he just _can’t_ , his dick is getting hard again in Bruce’s mouth. 

And why wouldn’t it. Bruce is just as amazing at giving head as he is at everything else he does. He completely loses himself in it, holds Jason’s hips down to the bed as he sucks him hard, pulls off and replaces his mouth with his hand to mouth at Jason’s balls, dragging his tongue over them until Jason takes his fist out of his own mouth to tug at Bruce’s hair, pulling several strands out by the root, shouting _Bruce._.

“Shh, quiet,” Bruce says, crawling back up to kiss Jason, then pushes his fingers into Jason’s mouth. Jason’s eyes go wide, but he sucks on Bruce’s fingers the way he wants so _very_ badly to suck on his cock, tries to show Bruce how _good_ he can be, but Bruce has other plans. He pulls his fingers out of Jason’s mouth and kisses him, reaching between Jason’s legs and swallows down Jason’s surprised moan when Bruce slips one of his wet fingers between Jason’s cheeks and starts to push it inside of him. 

Jason’s face is red and hot, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and he looks so goddamn good Bruce never wants to let him out of this room, wants to keep him here, just like this, forever. 

Jason moans low and loud, not holding back, when Bruce slides in up to the knuckle. “ _Bruce_ ,” he gasps, searching out his eyes and pleading with him, saying his name over and over again as Bruce slides his finger in and out of him, saying it like his name has taken new meaning. It means _please_ and _yes_ and _more_ and _I love you, don’t ever stop._

Jason’s mouth falls open silently when Bruce adds a second finger, but when he crooks them inside of him and they brush this part inside of Jason that makes everything go too bright he thinks he probably screams because then Bruce’s other hand is cupping his mouth, muffling his sounds. He’s staring down at Jason like he wants to take him apart and he _is_ , with every sharp little thrust of his fingers inside of him, every time he says _beautiful_ or _so good, Jay_ , Jason comes apart a little more, lets Bruce open him up and take him apart until he’s exactly what he wants. 

Jason isn’t even aware that Bruce has taken his hand away from his mouth and he’s started begging until Bruce starts stroking his face and shushing him. “You can,” he says in this soft, reassuring voice. Jason had been shaking his head, muttering how it was too much, how he couldn’t -- not again, not without Bruce’s hand or mouth on him at least. “You can come for me, just like this. Do you want to know why? Because you’re so good for me, Jason. So perfect and mine.”

He twists his fingers and Jason comes, not because of the angle or the way Bruce’s thick fingers feel inside of him, not because he’s harder than he’s ever been in his entire life, but just at that one word. _Mine._

His dick twitches against his belly, smearing the littlest bit of come across his abs, but it feels fucking _amazing_ , coming with Bruce inside of him, whether its his fingers or his cock it’s _him_ and he can feel Jason tightening around him and Jason reaches down, curling his fingers around his dick to ride every wave of it.

“Jason,” Bruce breathes out, crowding over him. “That was --” And Jason pushes Bruce’s pants off his hips and hooks his legs around him, digs his heels into Bruce’s back and pulls him against him. 

“Come on,” he encourages Bruce, voice soft next to his ear and Bruce ruts against Jason’s hip, breathing into his neck. Jason cups his neck, lips brushing over the scratchy stubble on his jaw. “Come for me, Bruce.”

Bruce bruises Jason’s hips when he comes, three finger-length stripes right across the bone, and Jason kisses him through it, pushes his sweaty hair out of his face and smiles.

“I love you so much,” Bruce says when he comes down, staring down at Jason like he’s afraid he’s done a terrible thing, as if Jason wouldn’t blindly follow him into the depths of hell if he so much as asked. 

“You better,” Jason says, pushing up on his elbows to brush his mouth over Bruce’s. “Cause I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
